


Memories of the Forest

by Melchi_D



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Yugotalia-Fandom
Genre: Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12038265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melchi_D/pseuds/Melchi_D
Summary: They grabbed each other's hands, Dražen's grip being tight and hard and real. He gripped tighter as well, as if the bigger hand was an anchor."It's a deal."





	Memories of the Forest

"Hey, are you hiding something from me?" Janez jumped, almost dropping the plate he was washing. He shot a tetchy look at Dražen, before going back to his chores.

 

"First of all, no. And dare I ask what this is all about?" Dražen let out a rather haughty snort, not unlike the 'master' of the house.

 

"So I can't ask questions anymore, you trying to become a Hapsburg or something?" He leaned against the flowery wallpaper, his eyes sparkling from the sunlight streaming through the window. "Just saying, you'll need a bigger stick up your ass if you want to be one of them."

 

Janez rolled his eyes, despite the small smile playing on his lips. "Says the one who's not answering my question." He wrung his hands dry, playfully flecking water in Dražen's direction.

 

"Stop that." He swatted them away. "You know I hate getting wet."

 

"What are you, a cat?" Janez snickered as the Croat made a distinct 'hmph'. "Really, though. Why would you think I'd be hiding something?"

 

"Well, you've been acting real shady for one."

 

Janez bristled. "What do you mean by 'shady'?!"

 

"When I say shady, I mean shady, shorty." The Croat continued on, ignoring the other's protests about the nickname.

 

"Excusing yourself as soon as possible whenever somebody's around," he noticed the Slovene noticeably flinch at his words. "going off by yourself late at night to god knows where, and I don't think I've seen you make a full eye-contact to someone in weeks." He tallied them off one by one, staring pointedly at the accused.

 

"…" Dražen's eyebrow twitched. For once, the Slovene didn't have a retort for everything he said, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

 

"Don't you play the silent game with me!" He grabbed Janez's shoulder, knowing full well he was in the other's personal space. "Stop trying to squirrel away all of your problems! Remember last time?" Last time was a few months back, when he had found the latter overworking to the point of collapse. It took a lot of negotiating and a whole lot of arguments for it to get settled, which was especially hard since the damn Slovene couldn't just tell him what was wrong. His eyebrow twitched. Thinking about that made him realize how awfully similar this one was to that issue, which only served to tick him off even more.

 

He took a deep breath, trying not to let the anger leak into his voice. "Look, I'm just worried, okay? Just tell me-"

 

"Let go of me." Dražen's already twitching eyebrows shot up. He was  _ this _ close to just yelling at the other nation, but something held him back. Gathering all of his remaining tolerance, he tried again.

 

"I just want to understand what's going on-"

 

"Let GO of me!" He blinked, thrown off by the sudden aggression. The smaller one took the chance, twisting out of his grip before he could react. "I'm not having this conversation with you. Now if you'll excuse me…" With that Janez turned around, heading towards the door.

 

It was this moment when Dražen snapped. With one fluid motion, he seized the Slovene's left hand, holding him in place. "What is your problem?" He demanded. "I've been nothing but considerate but you're constantly being a crabby little pissbaby!" He got the savage joy of seeing red color the other's flustered face. "Last time, and now this. God I'm trying to help-"

 

"Well, I don't NEED it!"Dražen almost flinched. he had never heard Janez this angry before. "I never wanted anything, it's always YOU who keeps butting into my business." Janez took a deep breath, seemingly overcome with emotions. "Why can't you just respect that I don't want to tell you about my personal things?"

 

"W-Well, I- "  _ because I'm worried about you. _ He bit his tongue. There was no way he was going to just blurt that out. "I'm not going to let your piss poor performance impact my economy! It's already embarrassing I'm not even my own country, I'm not letting a midget like you make my situation turn for the worse!" He immediately regretted the words that came out of his mouth as he saw Janez's eyes widen.

 

"Oh. So that's how it is, huh?" Scratch what he said back then, THIS was the angriest that he had ever seen. Janez had drawn himself to full height, a steely gaze betrayed by how close his eyes were to tearing up. "I guess I was being too much a burden on you."

 

"No wait, I'm-"

 

"Save it." He snapped. "I have nothing to say to you, not now or ever. So you can shove-" He paused. His brown eyes was suddenly flooded with fear. "No, not now." He whispered. "Not like this, I can't-Let go right NOW!" The Slovene desperately tried to pull away, but with no avail.

 

"Wha, what's going on? Why are you so-" Why was he so terrified? He looked around the room to see what had spooked the Slovene so, when he noticed that there was something odd about his right hand. "Wha-" He looked again, puzzled. His hand felt like it was semi-underwater, but there was absolutely nothing there. The only thing even remotely odd was a slight shadow in his palm, which looked quite a lot like..fingers…from the left hand.

 

Oh.

 

Janez finally managed to snatch back his arm from his loosened grip, his face raw with vulnerability. For a moment, they stared down at each other, as if the answers were buried in each other. Then he bolted, yanking the door open and gone before the other could blink.

 

Gazing at the ajar door with still-shocked eyes, Dražen could only blink, the new information rattling in his head.

* * *

 

Janez ran.

 

He whipped past the trees, their trunks flashing by one after another. The air heated by the summer sun seemed hotter than usual, throwing every sense of his off-kilter.Everything seemed to be spinning, blurring into a green smear.

 

It wasn't long before Janez broke down, collapsing onto the dirt in a crumpled heap. He dragged himself to the nearest tree, the bark rough against his skin. He laid there for a while, struggling to calm the wild gasps that forced out of his chest. After regaining his composure, he raised his hands to his eye level, studying them as if an answer would appear if he stared at it long enough. The fading seemed to be gone for the moment, but it wouldn't be long until it came curled himself into a ball, hugging his legs tightly to his chest. Within the quiet of the woods, he could almost hear the countdown of the timer, every tick closer to detonation.

 

It, that condition of his, was getting worse, he could feel it in his bones.

 

Of course, trusting a feeling wasn't a very rational thing to do, but feelings held much more meaning to nations. He could  _ feel _ how his region was doing, what his citizens' were feeling, how the economy was going, and know it as the truth. This happened to be the same. The End was coming and it was a fact.

 

The wind rustled overhead, mixing the young green of leaves with the impossible blue of the sky. Even the summer sunshine, normally blinding, helped to complete the spectacle. It went through leaves, gleamed off the edges, and swirled in the forest, filling the forest with colors. It was such a sight, such a spectacle of nature, that it wasn't hard for Janez to lose himself in it. 

 

Breathe in. Breathe out. In, out. In.

 

CRACK.

 

His head snapped up to see Dražen before him. The Croat looked decidedly disheveled than usual, his normally clean blouse crumpled, with leaves and twigs sticking on to his vest. He took his time catching his breath, staring at him with daggers in his eyes. Janez defiantly stared back. The offense back at the house still left a bitter taste in his mouth. In the end, though, it was he who had to look away, unnerved by those unreadable green eyes.

 

"How long?" He almost jumped at the abrupt question. Side-eyeing the Croat warily, he replied.

"…For a while."

 

"And you didn't tell me because…?" He could feel the restrained anger behind the other's guarded tone. It made him want to burst it wide open, as if the other's anger was a balloon and he had a pin in his hands.

 

"Why bother? Wasn't I a burden?" Dražen's stare wavered momentarily at his experimental jab.

 

"That was um," he coughed awkwardly. "a mistake. I'm sorry about that."

 

"Hmm." Dražen must have been determined to get an explanation for him to apologize right away. His resolve slightly shook, but he bolstered it as soon as he could. He might not have self-confidence like Dražen and the others did, but he still had his dignity damnit, and he was not going to spill everything crying like a damn three-year old.

 

"I thought I already told you the answer. It's my business." Janez flinched when he saw the fire in Dražen's eye flare.

 

"Would you let go of your stupid pride for just one second?" Dražen's voice was on the verge of a shout, his eyes smoldering. "You know avoiding your problem isn't going to achieve anything."

 

"Like hell you care!" He shouted back. Angry tears, hot against the corners of his eyes threatened to spill. Gritting his teeth, he forced them back, nails digging against the palms of his hands. "I'm nothing to you, or to anyone for that matter! Why should you care if I disappear-"

 

Quick as a snake, Dražen grabbed him by the neck of the shirt, yanking him to his feet. "Shut up!" He hissed. "I already said I was sorry! You know I don't-Ugh!" He stamped his feet, trampling the shoots of grass. "You know what I mean! So stop avoiding the topic! Why aren't you doing anything about your problem?"

 

Fury, molten and hot, rose from the back of Janez's throat. "You think I haven't tried? All I've done for the past years was to try!" He spat. "Working my hours off, trying to carve myself a piece so I can gain an identity, a place to stand on, and you call that nothing? You don't know ANYTHING!" He managed to struggle free of Dražen's grip. Looking straight into the other's eyes, he continued. "All you do is meddle in my affairs, when you don't even know anything!"

 

"And whose fault is that!" Dražen roared back. "How am I supposed to know, when you don't tell me!"

 

"I..." Stumped, Janez stumbled a few steps backwards. "I don't..." It was over. He sank back to his spot against the tree, defeated. He braced himself against Dražen's anger. The Croat didn't exactly have the nicest temper, especially when it was pushed like this.

 

To his surprise though, the nation merely sighed, walking to where he was and plopping unceremoniously on the ground. "I...I know I'm not the best at listening." He admitted. "I get carried away and stuff, I get it. And I'll try to fix that, but you have to open up more too. It's eating you up inside, and I'm not talking about that...condition." The last word came out as a stumble, but Janez didn't blame him. Creatures like them weren't so used to the concept of death when it applied to them.

 

"I was going to tell you at first." He blurted out. "When it first happened..." He still remembered when it first happened, the feeling of pins and needles waking him up at the middle of the night. Fuzzy from sleep, he had tried to wake himself up by rubbing his eyes, only to find there was nothing attached beyond the wrist. "I was scared. More scared than I've ever been. But..."

 

"But what?"

 

"...I was more afraid of the pity you'll show on your face." The breeze seemed to die as the impact of the words sunk into both of them. "I was afraid that you'll prove it to be true, that I was someone weak. Even if it's true, I just couldn't stand to face it." A laughter forced out of his throat, the sound as bitter as the rest of his words. "I'm just a coward, always has been, and always will be. Though the 'will be' part isn't going to be that long by the looks of it." He raised his hand, stopping Dražen from retorting. "I can feel it progressing, nothing's going to change that. I've been staving it off as best as I can, but it's inevitable."

 

"So you're just going to give up?" Dražen demanded. "After all of that, you're going to fold?" He didn't wait for an answer, surging on, getting angrier by the second. "That's bullshit! How is giving up going to-You're not-" Dražen stopped, clearly overwrought with emotions, something Janez felt surprised, and slightly privileged to see. Not many people saw this side of him, let alone it be directed at someone. It took a bit for Dražen to regain his composure, the steel back in his green eyes.

 

"Listen, maybe you haven't fought in a real fight. but it's the warriors that survive the fight that are the victors. And no one calls runaways as victors." Dražen calmed down, the words tinged with surprising gentleness. "You're alive. If you were a coward you would have given up a long time ago."

 

The silence following the declaration was palpable, stretching out the distance between them. It lingered for a good while when it was suddenly broken by laughter.

 

"What's so funny?" The Croat demanded, befuddled.

 

"You're," he said between the chuckles. "you're really terrible at this emotional talk business."

 

"Hey, I did this for you, you ungrateful!" He dissolved into grumbling. The tension had dissolved into a comfortable period of silence, which Janez broke after a bit of consideration.

"Thank you."

 

"It's nothing." He said, his face turned away. Another moment passed, this time Dražen being the one to break it.

 

"Hey, let's make a bet." Janez's eyebrow rose.

 

"A bet?" He echoed.

 

"You continue living, and I won't blame you for any of the things I do to Austria."

 

"And what about…?" He left the rest hanging, both of them knowing full well what came after.

 

"Then I get to drink that wine you've been stashing in your floorboards."

 

At once his face colored. "How did you know!"

 

"Seriously, did you really think any alcohol will be lost with Czechia in the house? Come on."

 

He muttered a number of unkind words, a fair share of it directed at the aforementioned nation. "Fine."

 

They grabbed each other's hands, Dražen's grip being tight and hard and real. He gripped tighter as well, as if the bigger hand was an anchor.

 

"It's a deal."

* * *

 

The first thing Dražen saw was blood.

 

The red liquid was everywhere, splattering the floor, dripping down the walls. It pooled on the wooden surface of the containment cell, still flowing because of just how  _ much _ there was. Bile rose from the back of his throat. He'd experienced through revolts, battlefields, even massacres, but the scene in front of him somehow trumped all of those. It was the blood of human imagining, thick and unrelenting because that's how people thought it to be.

 

And only one thing could have that lifeblood in hi- _ its _ veins.

 

His eyes scanned the cell, searching for even the slightest part of a body, a hint that someone very much alive and breathing was here, something. All he found however, was nothing. The cell was completely empty save for the pool of blood.

 

A cry of terror came from behind him, along with hurried footsteps getting weaker as time went along. It was most likely one of the Nazi officers, probably scared shitless by the sight.

Not that he bothered to check of course.

 

'You knew this would happen.' The Devil whispered into his ear. Or was it an angel…? 'You chose this outcome for him.'

 

"That's not-"

 

"Not true?" The voice chuckled. "Now, isn't that a lie of all lies. Don't pretend you don't know anything about annexations." He winced, his body remembering the pang in his heart, that feeling of violation.

 

"You were an autonomous kingdom, and annexed by one country, and you felt that for weeks. What did you think would happen to one who barely experienced autonomy when annexed by four?" The facts were slaps to his cheeks, indisputable and irrefutable.

 

"Face it. This is what happens to weaker nations. And you'd do well to remember that." With that, the voice left, leaving him at the entrance of the cell, the soles of his shoes thoroughly soaked with red.

.

.

.

The hills were washed out in a dusky orange, their original colors leached out by the setting sun. To Dražen, it felt like the sun was in its last throes, its desperate clamoring drowning out everything near it.

 

He turned his head away. How unsightly.

 

It was a few hours after the incident. The officer that had ran off had went straight to the authorities, in turn alerting the three members in the Axis. He had made his escape in the midst of the hubbub, his feet carrying him far far away from the damn place. He still wasn't sure why he had walked out, it wasn't like he had cold feet all of a sudden. It was just the way his heart seemed to clench, the way his head seemed to buzz when he was around that…that cell.

 

- _ He had one final look of - face before the door was closed shut. The face seemed to jump out at him, the grime, the fear, _

_ and most of all the look of death _ -

 

(( _ it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t it  _ **_wasn’t_ ** ))

 

Eventually Dražen stopped walking, surveying his surroundings. He immediately grimaced at the sight. Tall trees were everywhere him, the new budding leaves turned black from the night. Wind blew between the branches, rustling the winter-weary limbs, making them groan and creak.

 

-" _ Why did you make that promise with me?" He rolled his eyes. "I have a sense of decency, shocking I know." _

 

_ It wasn't the only reason- _

 

_ (( _ **_SHUT UP_ ** _ )) _

 

He cursed, holding his head. Out of all the places he could have went… He stood back up hastily, ready to leave when something just a few ways beyond the woods caught his eye.

In a daze, he took a step forward.

 

_ -"You sure of putting it in a place like this?"- _

 

_ ((drown the memory, before it gets to their voice)) _

 

Then another.

 

_ -"Are you doubting me?"- _

 

He stops.

 

_ ((Block it out, won't hear it,  _ **_can't_ ** _ hear it)) _

 

Gritting his teeth he continued. It took no time for him to reach it, 'it' turning out to be a house, obviously empty, but not showing any signs of wear.

 

He gripped the handle and turned. He didn't expect it to do anything, but with a shudder and a creak, the door opened. Shouldn't it have been locked…?

 

_ \- "They'll never find it," - said, a twinkle in his(was it a his?) eyes. "The trees know this is my place and my place alone. Maybe I'll let you in when I'm feeling generous." _

 

_ ((don't think about that don't think about that don't)) _

 

The interior of the house was clean, despite retaining the air of general unuse. Even the sofa, something that stored dust like crazy, didn't let out as much as a dust cloud when he plopped on it. He let out a dry snort. Only he would do something like keep a house that he wasn't even using free of dust.

 

_ -"You'll help me, won't you?" He asked. The sunlight shone in his hair, lighting each individual strand in a golden light- _

 

He froze, realizing his mistake, but it was too late. He was already back, in the memory of decades ago.

 

_ " What's the first thing you want to do when we get out of here?" _

 

_ "I'm gonna build a house!" His eyebrow arched. _

 

_ "A house?" He echoed. Janez nodded excitedly. _

 

_ "I've been living in someone else's house for so long, oh it's going to be great!" He was really getting into it, his eyes shining with hope for the future. "It's going to be somewhere in the forest, that's not going to be hard. I also want a garden, and oh a stable sounds really nice too-" _

 

_ "Stop, stop. You're getting way too ahead of yourself." He stopped the Slovene before the list of future material possessions grew to an hour long talk. "Also, you do know we're going to be living together right?" He pointed out. _

 

_ "That doesn't matter, what matters is what it represents!" Janez forged on, undeterred. " t's a symbol of autonomy and independence and…" He trailed off, words failing to catch up to his emotions. Dražen chuckled. For someone who claimed to be older than him, he sure was excitable. _

 

_ "By the way when I'm done building, you better come furniture shopping with me." _

 

_ "I thought it was just a symbol!" _

 

_ "It is, but a house is a house and I'll be damned if I don't put the best furniture in there." Dražen rolled his eyes. _

 

_ "Hey, stop giving me that look!" The little Slovene pouted, mock-punching the other in the shoulder, which he punched back. The exchange quickly dissolved into a wrestling match between the two, the grappling far too light for it to be real. After a few tumbles it ended with him on top of Janez, tickling the smaller's side. _

 

_ "..Stop…doing that…" Janez managed to say between his gasps and laughter. Managing to swipe the offending hands away, he lied down on the summer grass, still catching his breath. With the crooked grin still plastered onto Dražen's face, he opened his mouth to say a snarky comment but stopped. There was something about the other's flushed face, the way the red tinged his cheeks, the way the eyelashes fluttered when taking deep breaths… _

 

_ Something inside him stirred, spurred into action by the scent of fresh grass. Without thinking, he leaned forward… _

 

" **STOP** !" He lashed out, somehow knocking over a vase, shattering it. It brought him out of his stupor, staring hard at the porcelain shards, breathing heavily. Then, as if enlightened, he slowly walked over to the nearest piece of furniture, and kicked it with all his might.

 

'CRASH' went the dining table as it overturned violently to the ground, one of its leg snapping off. The chairs suffered the same fate, broken off parts strewn on the floor. Things he couldn't hurl across the room with a satisfying crash, he smashed with the broken-off table leg. Plates and glassware were obliterated, along with every miscellaneous item he laid his eyes on.

 

The frenzy slowly wore off after god knows how long, the flurry of violence slowing to a still. The house was now unrecognizable, if it could be even called a house anymore. Pieces of broken furniture were strewn everywhere, splinters and shards of glass littering every spot of the floor. 

 

The only thing untouched from the methodical destruction was a single cupboard, lying discreetly next to the shattered window. He stared at it for a while, looking at the dull sheen of the moon on the polished wood.

 

He opened it, grabbing a nondescript bottle. Briefly looking at the label, he promptly smashed the mouth of the bottle against the wall. He then plopped down on the ground, no concern for the minefield of a floor, and drank. Gulping down the contents, he immediately threw the bottle against one of the wreckage piles when it showed signs of emptying.

 

He vacantly stared into the empty space, not caring to wipe away the streams of blood where the jagged glass cut into his lips. The metallic taste seeped into his mouth, a trigger for the memory from the holding cell to spring back.

 

A laugh tumbled from his lips, then two. He had done everything he could do to escape the past, even kill the only friend he had, but it had only served to get him tangled into it further.

 

Oh the irony.

 

The laugh had now become into a fit of cackling, each bark more strangled and broken than the last. With his tightening chest, he managed to cough out words.

 

"It's a deal, just like we promised." He felt the corner of his eyes burning, molten fire on the verge of spilling over. "So you better keep your end of the bargain, you damn bastard."

 

With that, Dražen Krleža broke down.

* * *

 

He woke up face up on the cold hard ground.

 

Everything hurt. Every particle of his being burned with raw intensity, as if they had just been born anew from the depths of the Earth.

 

Might as well have been, considering what he exactly was.

 

He eyed his surroundings. The tall trees reaching out for the sky made it clear it was a forest, though under the gray sky they looked frozen and dead.

 

For what seemed like forever, he continued to lie down on the forest ground, every wind brushing the treetops a dead man's whisper. While listening to the ghosts of the past, unbidden memories crept into the forefront of his mind.

 

An invasion…

 

Smoke and gunfire…

 

Pleas of the innocent…

 

A group of three, a cold emotionless face at the front…

 

And  _ him _ .

 

He shakily pulled himself up, ignoring the violent protest of his body. Hunched over a rotten tree stump, he paused, taking time to breathe.

 

He could still feel their cries, the final moment where their lives were snuffed out like a candle light. All of their fear, their anger, their despair; they weighed down his soul like the chains of the damned. People who needed their country, no his protection, but who were rejected of that right.

 

' _ Like you could have done anything _ .' His aching body screamed. ' _ You've been serving someone for as long as you can remember. How can someone like you even hope to accomplish for them? _ '

 

He stopped struggling. What could he have done? He could barely move and his head was practically swollen with fear and doubt. His nails dug into the trunk of the tree, sinking into the rotting wood. Some country he was. Why was he even brought back when nothing could be changed?

 

He paused.

 

He was alive.

 

Despite what happened, the tears into his flesh, the searing burn of agony, he was still alive.

 

_ It's the warriors that survive the fight that are the victors. And no one calls runaways as victors. _ The phrase echoed in his head. He still remembered that day all those years ago, the bitter tension, the desperate tears, and the achingly sweet tenderness. All of it wrapped up with the taste of the shattered sunlight filtered through the summer leaves, warm yet cool at the same time.

 

He wanted to laugh at the sheer irony.

 

"It seems I owe you one again." He lifted himself up. "I suppose I'll have to repay the favor." He took a step, a broken limp, but moved nonetheless. "I'll take back what's rightfully mine." Step. Shuffle. Little by little he continued to stumble along. He already knew where he needed to go, the determination to protect their loved ones and their beliefs a beacon in his heart.

 

"And I hope to God that we never meet again." He paused and softly added the words weighing down on his tongue. "For my sake."

 

With that, the nation of Slovenia left the forest, one stumble at a time.


End file.
